Spiteful
by Morgan 'Shii' Goat
Summary: When Carl angsts about not being part of the family, he unleashes a dastardly plan. Little did he know, the answers to his questions can come from the least likely of sources. Oneshot Rated for mentions of death and suicide. *EDITED*


**Disclaimer**: The characters of "Yin Yang Yo!" are copyrighted to Bob Boyle and Disney Animation.

**Note**: Switches between two points of view—Carl the Cockroach Wizard and Brother Herman.

I hate memories—particularly the bad or questionable ones. All the times when those meddling rabbits Yin and Yang foil my plans; my childhood of being pushed around by my brother, Herman the ant; not to mention the terrible mishaps that happened during my first tries at dark magic.

But nothing—not even the pain of defeat—hurts more than that one day of early childhood.

I was only five when it happened. I remember walking up to my mother—whom, at the time, I considered as the dragon to top all dragons, with her red-brown body looming over my then-puny cockroach size. Busy with her sewing, she stopped to briefly stare down at me, standing around as if contemplating something.

"_What is it, Carl," she asked in a tone that either meant she wasn't interested in my presence or she was too busy to be interrupted._

_But of course, naïve little me never noticed the difference. "Mommy, I've been wondering… Where did daddy go? What happened to him? I've never, never seen 'im in my _whole_ life!"_

"_I'd tell you, but you wouldn't understand. Maybe when you're older."_

Years passed, and at least once each year, I asked her, but she never reveals even a drop of information. I tried to search for cockroaches in the phone books and directories, but only in vain. I, Carl, the Evil Cockroach Wizard, know many things, yet I don't even know the name of my father!

Oh, what is a roach to do? My mother doesn't give a darn about me, and Herman and I hate each other's guts! Tell me who—who in the world—knows enough of my family history to answer my question? In fact, who even cares about me? _Who cares at all?_

_Dear diary,_

Today I was so close to conquering the Great Ant Colony—until the general, Sir Henry Antona III, surpassed my strength and reclaimed his throne. A majority of my loyal troops defeated, we were banished from the Colony, never to return. Still, despite all that, my mother was still proud of me for trying. Of course, she should, for I have power, brains, and dashing good looks—all of which Carl will never possess!

But still, I can't shake the feeling that maybe I'm being a bit too harsh on my brother. Ah, well! He'll just have to deal with the fact that I'm better than him.

Whoops! I'll check you later; something's come up outside.

Herman

I shut my journal and placed it in its rightful place behind my ultra-thick "Guide to Mastering Pain" hardcovers. Outside, I saw waves of bright red light emitted from the top of the tallest mountain in the area. Excited about what evil plan might be up, I sped over to Carl's bedroom down the hall.

I opened the door—but as I looked around, I quickly realized that he wasn't there. I went to the next room—mother's.

"Mother," I exclaimed as I slammed her door open. "There's an evil plan going on, and I can't find my brother, and if I can't find my brother, then I can't brag to him about the evil plan going on!"

Mother, listening as she applied blush-pink lipstick to her lips, flatly answered, "He said he was going to concoct 'his most evilest plan ever' and left." Overjoyed, I thanked her and dashed out of the house.

As I headed for the mountain, the gears of my mind began to work. Then it all made sense to me…

"… Kalame kala,

Nomani ibacht,

Getscheri Chiracht…"

I continued to read the foreign text from the spell book as my left hand glowed red and sent waves of light for miles and miles. Good! That means it's working! Once the spell is complete, everyone—the Woo Foo Warriors, the family that never liked me, and everyone in town who ever stomped on or beaten me up—will be destroyed! The thought of it made me laugh, and my maniacal laughter echoed throughout the mountains and beyond.

But after a few seconds, my laughter died down to a few soft "hehs". At what cost will I have to pay? If I perform the spell, I'll never have my questions answered, I'll never know anything about my father, and… I won't live to witness any of what life has to offer.

Nonetheless, the spell must go on. I continued to read the last stanzas…

I climbed up the rocky surface of the mountain, and as I did, I gradually heard the vague sounds of words. I did not understand the meaning to these words, but I went on, knowing I was one step closer to the peak, where my brother began to execute what he called his "most dastardly deed". The only question stuck in my head was, 'what is it?'

Suddenly, everything began to tremble, and I almost lost my footing. Fortunately, I caught the ledge from where I had fallen; after that, I decided to put the spiked toes on my new steel boots to good use in trekking up the mountainside.

Man, this spell is long, I thought as the words slipped out of my lips with little conscious notice. But if it works, it'll be worth all the reading…

My train of thought was interrupted, for a powerful force pushed me aside. The spell book slipped from my hand and fell into the great abyss below me. Even worse, I hung upside-down, staring down at that abyss, supported most likely by the something that shoved me and broke my spell.

"Alright! Who interrupted me when I…?" I looked up—er, down—to my feet and saw who else but the least likely to save me from such a life-threatening situation. "Herman," I exclaimed, half-glad and half-angry.

Herman sported his sharp-toothed grin and replied, "I can't have my little brother sporting a better plan than me. Besides, it's no fun being evil if you don't have someone to compete with." Both of us began to slide down, and his mood changed. "Uh, oh. My boots can't hold for much longer. Brother, there's something I must tell you. It's about… your father."

"Don't you mean our father?"

"No! Your father! I—I was adopted! Years before mother had you, she found me on the doorstep, with a note from her ex-fiancé. He had a child from his foreign girlfriend, Mother's twin sister, but neither of them could bear the guilt. And when you were born, your father… was murdered by mine, out of anger and jealousy.

"I wish he were alive again." He made a sniffling sound before continuing. "He was the greatest man I ever knew. And… you look just like him! Unfortunately, that's why Mother ignores you—'cause she can't deal with a spittin' image of him."

My father… looked just like me. I was in shock. The greatest man to have possibly existed, and he was killed off by Herman's father. My mind drifted, daydreaming of how life would be if he still lived. My mother will kiss him in the cheek before he leaves for work, and she spends quality time with not just Herman, but the both of us. She'll treat me like an equal; she squeals in pride for every successful deed, and will be there to comfort in cases of failure. And when dad comes home, he'll ask me how my day was, and we'll…

"Carl, use your magic quick! I can't hold much longer!" My daydream broke off as I felt my brother's grip loosen; I remembered our situation and immediately did as he commanded. My arms outstretched over my head, I concentrated as hard as I can.

Failure. The advanced spell from just moments before had exhausted me of magical strength. Then suddenly, I no longer felt supported by anything; instead, the pressures of air resistance present when falling.

Nonetheless, I tried again—this time, even harder. A burning sensation spread throughout my body, and the red glow, usually present in my spell casting, also spread—from the tip of my antennae to Herman's steel-toed boots.

In a moment, weightlessness became us. While still in control of this power, I levitated the both of us down hundreds—possibly thousands—of feet. As my feet touched the ground, I looked down to find my brother with his tiny arms wrapped around my leg.

Shortly after we reached ground level, I backed away from Carl, hoping he didn't get any ideas of my fear of plummeting from great heights. He breathed rapidly, fatigued from the stress of the spell's execution, and something inside gnawed at me—somehow, his tired state made him appear more innocent, like he had at the age of five. It just breaks my heart to see my brother like this.

Replying on impulse, I stretched out my hand to him. "Hey. After all those years of us fighting… How 'bout a truce… brother?"

Carl's green eyes switched from my hand to my face. Slowly, he reached for mine… but then slapped it away. "If you think I'm going to forgive you for hogging the spotlight, well, think again!" He took a couple of steps back, and he pointed his index finger at me. "The death of my father by yours proved one thing: that we were meant to be enemies, even as brothers or cousins or relatives of any sort!" And with that, he cast another spell and disappeared.

Staring down at the dirt, I pondered to myself until I found the word to describe how I felt when we saved each other: love. And there was a sentence with that word that I forgot to mention to him before he stormed off—"I love you."

**Author's Note:**

Terribly sorry if the story came out fluffy, cheesy, or melodramatic in general. Hopefully, as long as at least one person appreciates it in some way, shape, or form, I will greatly appreciate it in return. Also, I tried my hardest to make the characters involved somewhat in character, but because of how the story went, they—or more particularly, Herman—came out a little bit touchy-feely.

Also, as usual, constructive criticism is accepted, and flames will be used to make s'mores.

(And I have a strong feeling that someone might find hints of Herman/Carl in this.)


End file.
